


Better Not Touch

by candlejill



Series: Feed My Frankenstein [9]
Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Bottom Carl Grimes, Bottoming from the Top, Breathplay, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Knifeplay, Light BDSM, M/M, Top Negan (Walking Dead), Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 01:16:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10911321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candlejill/pseuds/candlejill
Summary: Carl pays a late night visit to Negan.





	Better Not Touch

“Keep your goddamn mouth shut!” 

Negan jolted awake to the stinging bite of something tightly wrapping around his neck. His heart raced rapidly as he tried to pull at the leather choking against his throat. Gasping for air he felt the point of a knife press into his back. His blood was pumping hard and he tried to fight.

“Calm down, you jackass,” Carl demanded.

“What the _fuck,_ Carl?” Negan protested, still struggling against the restraint around his throat, though not nearly as much.

Carl adjusted himself and pulled the belt harshly to the side, forcing Negan to turn toward him. He noticed the kid had the knife in his other hand pointed at his chest.

“This isn’t fucking necessary,” Negan rasped.

Carl stood, tugging Negan by the belt, once again squeezing just on the side of too tight. Negan stood quickly, ready to do whatever the hell Carl wanted him to.

Carl lead him to the bars of the cell. “Sit down,” Carl ordered.

“I’m not a goddamn dog, you know,” he said. “Though for you? Fuck, kid. Sit, stand, kneel. I’ll pray to goddamn Mecca if you point me in the right direction.”

“Then you shouldn’t have a problem _sitting down._ ” His demand was calm and strong. It gave Negan goosebumps and made him a little hard.

Shivering and smiling wide, he slid his back down against the bars, and sat with his legs out.

Carl reached over and fastened the belt tight above him. He had enough room to breath but barely. Any time Negan moved too far the leather tightened against his throat.

“Hands behind your back.”

“Shit, Carl, I promise I’m not going to pull a Steve McQueen. Now just let me punch-fuck that ass of yours already.”

Tying him up was completely unnecessary. He had zero fucking plans of trying to overpower him. He wasn’t lying to Carl when he said he just wanted to get off. But hell if it wasn’t hot seeing him take control. It reminded Negan of the first time Carl had done it. Before things went down the shitter.

“Please?” He smirked watching Carl’s face, “You like it when I beg?”

Carl glared at him. It was hard to see his eye burning under his hat, but he knew him well enough to know the look was there.  

Whipping out his knife, Carl held the point to Negan’s throat. “Behind. Your. Back,” he spoke through gritted teeth.

Rolling his eyes and sighing, Negan did as he was told. Carl wrapped his wrists together tightly against his back. He walked to Negan’s feet and pulled hard to remove his pants, tugging one leg at a time until Negan had finally kicked them off. His dick was hard and begging for any attention Carl decided to bestow upon him.

“Goddamn, _mother_ fucker. This floor is fuckin’ freezing as shit,” Negan complained.

“Oh, you want your clothes back? Maybe I should leave?” Carl threatened.

“Fuck you, Carl,” Negan said smiling. Laughing he added, “Right the fuck _now._ Jesus, hurry the hell up. Be a gentleman and warm me up a little, huh?”

Carl threw his hat behind him on the bed. Negan’s heart raced as Carl walked over to his side. With anticipation, he waited as Carl slowly began to unzip his jeans, then dropped them. Negan’s eyes glazed over as he saw his lithe frame in the dark, teasing him, driving him fucking mad. He wanted that body all over him and he was sick of waiting.

Carl seemed to feel the same way. He climbed over his hips and knelt above him. Negan pulled at his restraints, only wishing to have his hands free long enough to get them on Carl.

Finally, he positioned himself over Negan and lowered himself slowly. When Negan tried to arch up into him, the restraint around his neck tightened, stopping him from moving. Carl had the audacity to smirk at him.

Smiling back, Negan laughed, “You are one _kinky_ bastard, you know that?” Negan arched his back again, pushing his hips up looking for more friction. He was willing to play any fucking game Carl wanted.

“You say another word and I’m leaving,” Carl stated calmly. He ass finally pushed pressure against Negan’s dick.

Negan rolled his eyes then closed them, along with his mouth. He focused on the way Carl’s ass felt grazing over his very interested prick. It had been so goddamn long since he’d had a warm body get him off. Since he’d had _Carl_. He couldn’t even count how many times he’d fantasized about the kid sneaking in and fucking him.

“You know,” the tip of Carl’s knife trailed across Negan’s chest, “I wasn’t planning on coming here.” He pushed the knife harder making Negan hiss and arch back as it drew blood. “You’re such a fucking dick, you know that right?”

Negan shone his white teeth bright in the dark as he smiled wide. His stomach jumped with anticipation, waiting for Carl to get to the fucking point.

“I give you chance after chance and each time you prove to me that the only thing you’re good for is a quick fuck.”

Squeezing his eyes closed tight, Negan arched once again this time meeting Carl’s ass pushing his hips back down. He was waiting for the kid to squirm between his legs. He meant what he’d told him before, fucking or being fucked was fine with him as long as he could get it. Any goddamn way he could get it. But Carl seemed to like their previous arrangement. So he waited for him to move.

Negan dropped his smile and narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t hold his tongue, “The only reason it’s quick is because you don’t have the _stamina_ to keep up with me.”

Carl brought the knife to his throat with one hand, silently threatening him. He felt the point of the knife press firmly against his skin. His beard protected him slightly but really he _wanted_ to feel it. He fucking _needed_ to feel Carl in that room with him.

“Shut. The hell. Up,” he demanded. “You know I still hate you, right?”

Negan rolled his eyes at him. Carl fucking adored him, he wasn’t fooling anyone. Negan still felt a pang of irritability that he’d decided it was necessary to say, though.

Reaching under himself with his free hand, Negan gasped as Carl’s fist tightened around the base of his prick. It had been too damn long since someone had their hands on him.

Throwing his head back, Negan sighed at the tight heat surrounding him. “Jesus, I missed you,” he moaned breathlessly against the belt still tied around his neck making.  

Carl positioned himself over Negan and before he had a moment to appreciate what was happening, Negan felt the warm heat of Carl’s ass wrapped around him. The sudden loud clank of Carl’s knife falling to the ground echoed into the air surprising Negan. Then Carl’s nails were scratching down his chest as he began to move.

“Jesus, fuck,” Negan sighed, leaning back. Basking in the tight heat around him.

Boney fingers poked into the flesh of his hips. “You suck at listening to orders,” Carl smirked.

Negan laughed softly as he pushed up into Carl. “Shit, I’ll do any fuckin’ thing you want, kid, but controlling my mouth isn’t something I’m capable of. Not unless your prick is in it. God _damn_ ,” Negan sighed as Carl lifted and sunk back down onto him. “Fuck, Carl,” his breath was shallow and rapid, “I want to feel all that smooth fucking skin of yours against me. _Shit_. It’s been too long.” He sighed, breathing heavy as he twitched inside of Carl. “We haven’t done this enough,” he confessed.

Carl began to ride him in earnest, making Negan writhe underneath. It felt so fucking good but a quiet discontentment whispered to him that it wasn’t enough. He needed Carl’s hands in his hair. His lips on his skin. And Negan needed to feel every inch of the silky planes of his body, but he was forced to take whatever Carl was willing to give.

“Faster,” he pleaded, opening his eyes to watch Carl glaring down at him. That eye bore into him, vehemently promising to carry out every threat and more. It made Negan delirious. He _needed_ more, whatever Carl would give. But he knew it would never be enough.

He was getting close but Negan fought desperately, wanting to hold on to the moment as long as he could. Thrusting up, meeting Carl’s ass, his breathing was strenuous and air hard to receive. He panted heavily fighting to catch his breath and to keep the kid going. As Carl’s hand roamed up and scratched over his chest he came, hard and hot into Carl, gasping through his orgasm.

Negan held his eyes closed tight as he listened to the soft pants from the kid, ass still milking him from everything there was left. Opening his eyes he watched at Carl pumped his fist over his dick, shivering as the wave of his orgasm trembled through his body, come dripping over his hand and painting Negan’s chest.

It still wasn’t enough for Negan.

Cautiously, Carl sat up letting Negan’s cock drop softly beneath him. With shaky hands, Carl reached up and unfastened the belt from around the bars. Negan inhaled deeply, finally catching a full breath as he relaxed into the door of the cell.

Now that Negan no longer had the obligation to worry about the fate of mankind, he had a chance to focus on Carl presently in front of him. The sadness he saw behind Carl’s eye hit him hard in the chest.

“Jesus, come here,” he pleaded softly, sitting up and moving his shoulders closer towards Carl. He struggled absently at the ropes still bound behind his back but ignored them.

Leaning over him, Carl lowered himself, sitting carefully in his lap, and gently kissed him.

A shiver ran through him as he felt Carl ease into his mouth, continuing to kiss him tenderly with hesitation. More than anything Negan wanted to run his fingers through Carl’s hair. Hold his head in his hands as he tasted that warm mouth. Feel more of that smooth skin against his body.

But it was enough that Carl had come by at all. It had to be.

Somberly, Carl sat up. He stared deep into Negan’s eyes. Goosebumps shivered over Negan’s cooling skin. If he could have been bothered about the cold he would have been annoyed, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of Carl.

Shaking his head sadly, Carl said, “I _really_ fucking hate you.”

Laughing quietly, Negan replied, “You fuckin’ _love_ me.”

Carl stared back at him, suddenly quiet.

Negan’s heart sunk and he dropped his smile.

It was the wrong thing to say. An edge of panic gnawed at him, something he rarely felt, but Negan regretted saying it instantly. His heart pounded hard wishing he could have taken it back.

“Carl,” Negan pleaded quietly.

Sitting up awkwardly, Carl climbed off of his lap and quickly put on his clothes and grabbed his hat.

Walking over to Negan’s bound hands, Carl untied the ropes. “I, uh, have to go. Next guard will be here soon.”

Sitting up, Negan rubbed his wrists, “Hey, man. Come on, I was only-”

“Bye, Negan,” Carl creaked the cell door wide enough to slip out then pulled it closed behind him. The clank of the lock was heavy and echoed in the small room.

He left Negan for the dark.

“Fuck,” Negan sighed as he laid back down. Rubbing the heel of his palm into his eyes. He hoped that his stupid fucking mouth hadn’t just pushed Carl away again. 

* * *

 

Everyday Negan waited for that damn hat to come bobbing back towards his door. It was about the only thing he had left to hope for. It was disappointing when each day Carl didn’t appear, though he couldn’t say he wasn’t surprised.

Instead, to break up his days, Negan chatted with his guards. He charmed his way into getting a few books and a deck of cards. It was boring as shit but he was alive. And as pissed as he was, he was truly grateful Rick hadn’t just executed him. Or set the mob after him for a good old fashioned lynching. He knew he’d made enemies but he honestly admired Rick’s conviction to make an example of him. It wasn’t a move Negan would have pulled, but it seemed to be effective.

He was actually glad that Rick stopped by the jail occasionally. He rarely spoke to him but it provided Negan with a good opportunity to listen to his conversations between the guards. The communities weren’t living on cloud nine, which Negan found extremely satisfying. Most of Negan’s men had fallen in line and played nice with the communities, but a few factions of the Saviors were still being a pain in Rick’s ass.

Negan was pretty proud of that.

When he was truly desperate, that’s when Rick visited Negan.

And Negan was _mostly_ on his best behavior. He appreciated the conversation more than anything, so if he was antagonizing him it was mostly to keep Rick there longer, and only slightly because he loved seeing Rick squirm.

Neither one of them spoke a word about Carl, though Negan _wanted_ to. He could tell Rick was relieved by it. But he didn’t do it for Rick. He did it for Carl. Anything that might make a nightly rendezvous a reality he wasn’t about to jeopardize. He wouldn’t make it more difficult for Carl to sneak in and if Rick knew that Carl was on his mind he’d definitely keep him away.

So, he waited.

Days passed and turned to weeks. Negan lost track. He only knew that each day without a visit from Carl was another strike against his sanity. Though, he didn’t lose hope, which he realized was fucking stupid. Waiting for him oddly gave him a reason to get out of bed each day.

Maybe _today_ would be the day.

Negan realized he was acting like a teenager, sitting by the phone waiting for it to ring. But it’s not like he had any other goddamn thing in his life to look forward to.

When Carl didn’t show, it didn’t upset him. He knew with Carl he just had to wait it out.

So he continued to fill his days with small talk when the guards would participate and too many games of solitaire. He’d gotten accustomed to working through different exercises just to keep in shape. Negan knew that cage wouldn’t hold him forever and when he got out he wanted to be ready for whatever the world looked like on the outside.

His routine was down. The only time he was allowed out of the cell was for a bath in a cold tub of water with plenty of guns pointed his direction. Negan wasn’t stupid. If he wanted to get out, that was not the way. He was playing the long game with Rick and truly wasn’t intending on fucking up what little trust he had built with him.

As happy as he was about the remaining Saviors fucking up Rick’s plans, he didn’t have a problem narcing on them when he heard they were doing some fucked up shit. He believed Rick when he told Negan the rumors about what life was like in the Saviors little nomadic community. It wasn’t pleasant, not for the women. Once Rick described which of his men had become the new leader, Negan knew instantly he wasn’t lying. He’d kept a short leash with them but now that they were free to roam they did what they wanted. Negan had no problem talking tactics with Rick. Telling him what he thought would be the best approach and how to really piss off the remaining leaders.

As the days passed, he grew to have a larger understanding for the man. Rick wanted the same things Negan had wanted for his people, but Negan had been convinced it wouldn’t work without the fear of violence.

He didn’t know if it would last, but Negan saw how different and still effective Rick’s leadership could be. He was surprised to find he really did respect it.

Though _mutual_ respect was being built slowly, he knew Rick was still far from trusting him. But he did start to see more freedom and allowances with each productive meeting.

More books. Longer periods out of the cell for his “bath.” Rick even let him shave again, though still at gunpoint and with a shitty razor that couldn’t kill a fly. Nicked himself a fuckton, though.

Finally one night he found the opening he’d been waiting for. After being let out for his bath, when he returned to the cell he was instantly filled with hope when he didn’t hear the normal click and latch of the lock. He turned around to watch the guard, talking absently to another one in the room, both ignoring him. Neither one noticed the door hadn’t latched properly.

His heart raced as he walked to his bed and sat through the most excruciating conversation in his life. He played along, kept up appearances, and finally they left the room.

Hands were shaking as he approached the door of the cell. He didn’t hear the guards anywhere nearby. Taking a deep breath, Negan reached his hand out and wrapped his fingers tight around the cold metal bar. Inhaling deep, holding his breath, Negan slowly pushed at the door to find it swing open effortlessly.

He could hardly believe it. There he stood in his cell, looking directly at his freedom. It took all of his willpower to remain quiet but he couldn’t resist the victorious punch into the air. It was dark out, early into the evening but dark enough for him to walk outside without anyone recognizing him until they got closer. The only thing he had left to do was to incapacitate the guard.

Negan knew exactly what he was going to do. He’d planned his escape so many times in so many ways. With a racing heart and a calculating smile, Negan took a deep breath ready to free himself from that small jail.

It had been too long but he knew precisely where he was going to go.


End file.
